


Collision Course

by Cue_The_Facepalming



Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (2016), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Surprise Pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cue_The_Facepalming/pseuds/Cue_The_Facepalming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This isn't life in the fast lane, it's life in the oncoming traffic.”  -Terry Pratchett</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a lark. Like, it was the brain-child of my TV crush on Charlie Cox as Daredevil/Matt Murdock and my long-standing desire to write a femHarry at the same level of Don't Give A Shit as the actress Juno Temple. 
> 
> Surprisingly, it seems to have evolved into a thing with actual plot.

It was raining. 

This wasn't the clean, cool rainfall of early fall, that brought with it the smell of dying leaves and cool breezes. No. This was as summer shower, miserable as shit as it splattered you with lukewarm rain that made the ever-present fug of filthy humidity cling like a living thing to your skin, your clothes, your hair. It dragged at you, made your clothes sag into the watery slew of shit and vomit and dirt, even as they stuck to your skin This was a dirty rain, which—considering—was all too fucking appropriate.

Juniper swore, ducking under an awning to wring out her snarl of scraggly brown hair. A few loose strands caught between her fingers, snagging on her nails, as she combed her fingers through her wet mop. Green eyes darted around the miserable gloom, absently peeling away loose strands, and flinging them at the brick wall behind her. A fat drop of water, clinging to the filthy underside of the awning, dripped into her eye. Juniper swiped at her face, scowling darkly up at the tattered canvas. Fucking piece of shit.

Her hands trembled, fumbling in her coat pockets as she pulled out the waterlogged note she'd been holding onto for going on two weeks: 9:30 pm. August 10. Luke's Bar –D. Juniper turned toward the window, body pressed nearly flush against the window. Her waterlogged reflection peered back at her, pitiful as shit, and she swiped at the condensation as she pressed her forehead to the glass.

The bar wasn't exactly well lit, but she could just make out the tacky-as-hell analogue clock. 9:45.

She was late, again. Shit. Luke, his massive frame bent nearly in half, straightened, his unyielding brown eyes zeroing in to lock on her bright green. She could see that he was worried...not even the fogged over glass and the dim lighting could hide that. So yeah, she couldn't exactly read his eyes from her spot by the window (she wasn't fucking Hawkeye, thanks), but she knew his tells well enough to read the concern radiating from every inch of him.

His shoulders, hunched up like a goddamn vulture's wings, betrayed how very worried...how very pissed he was. Double-shit. Served her right, she supposed.

It had been, what, two months, and the first he was seeing of her is her looking like she'd been dragged through the mud backwards by a foul-tempered alley cat? Yeah, no...he was going to hand her her ass.

He waved her in. Juniper shook her head, waving him off, turning to lean back against the brick wall. She ached for a cigarette—Just. One.—but she pushed away the urge to say screw it and pop down to Franklin's. She was running late anyway. 

Juniper grit her teeth. As much as she wanted to, she'd promised Luke she'd quit, and she wasn't about to back out of that, not while he was watching. She let out a shaky exhale, trying to just focus...on the sound of the rain on the canvas, the tires on wet concrete, the shouts coming from the apartment complex down the block. Anything other than her need for a goddamn cigarette.

Sonuvashit. 

Another deep breath, and another shaky exhale. Juniper didn't even flinch when the side door creaked open, letting out a waft of warm, sour air...bar air.

“You coming in, or what?”

“In a minute.”

“It'll be bad for business if you drown on my doorstep.”

“Any worse than letting a minor into your bar?”

“Let me worry about that. Come in.”

“Can't.”

“Can't or won't?”

“Can't.” Juniper waved the soggy note in Luke's direction. “I'm meeting someone, but...I need a minute to get my shit together.”

Luke snorted. “You could get your shit together inside. Where it's dry.”

“You sound like Ma'.”

“I knew your mother; I'm taking that as a compliment.”

Juniper snorted. True enough. Lily Evans was a force unto herself.

She fumbled with her pockets, reaching past the crumpled pack to a foil wrapped piece of nicotine gum. She shoved it into her mouth and let the plastic drop to the wet sidewalk.

“Really, Evans? Like this hellhole isn't fucking filthy enough.”

Juniper snorted, stooping slowly and picking up the trash, slapping it into Luke's hand. He gave her an unimpressed stare. She grinned, unrepentant. “Do I look like I keep a trash bag on me?”

With a sigh, Luke pulled open the side door and ushered her inside. The scent of sour beer and boozy sweat was nearly overwhelming as she stepped into the bar. Juniper peeled her coat off, draping it over her arm as she followed Luke to the bar, and lowered herself to a perch on her stool.

“Can I get you anything?”

“A double-shot of whiskey would be great.” Her lips tugged up as Luke looked down his nose at her.

“The fuck you think I am, Evans?”

Juniper laughed. “Fine. A water, then. Happy?”

“Fucking ecstatic,” Luke grumbled. She bit back another laugh as the hulking mass of man wandered off, muttering about 'mouthy teenagers.'

“Not a teenager. It's August, old man...I'm twenty,” Juniper squawked.

Luke waved away her complaint without looking at her. “Still too damn young to be drinking in my bar, Juniper Evans.”

She smirked at his back. “So, I should be drinking in someone else's bar, then?”

That got his attention.

Luke straightened up to his full, impressive height. His expression, however? Not impressed. “Do that, and I'll lock you up til you're fifty.”

“Noted.”

Juniper didn't bother hiding her amusement as Luke stomped back to her, setting her water down heavily. He glared down his nose at her for a minute before seeming to give up. “Just...behave. I don't need any trouble, Juniper.”

She took a deep pull of her water, smiling sweetly up at Luke. He rolled his eyes and slunk back down the bar, tossing her an annoyed glower as he did. 

Juniper took a quick glance around the bar. As usual, the motley crew of regulars were present and accounted for. Lin, Suze, and Paul were each hunched over their bourbon sours, their expressions just as bitter as their drinks. No wonder. It was a thankless, smelly job, working the docks all day. And at the end of it, they got to go home to Hell's Kitchen. She'd be pissed too if that was her life. The resident bar-flies, Marta and Mary-Louise (MaLu, to her friends) were slumped over their beers and game of poker, their faces crumpled in concentration. If she didn't know they'd bleed her dry of the little pocket money she had left, she would have asked to join them.

...and, tucked into a dark corner of the bar, there he was. Dark haired and scruffy, he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, rather than spent a day at a desk. Even his suit looked like it had been slept in, though it was still a cut above the usual dive bar dress code. Only his dark glasses looked well-cared for, shiny and freshly polished with the little rag she could see poking out his jacket pocket.

He sat slumped against the counter, only the repeated tapping of his cane against the bar stool's legs belying his impatience. 

D.

Juniper slipped from her perch, grabbing her coat and her water, and slunk across the room. She slid into the seat next to D and settled back against the backrest.

“You're late.”

She snorted, dragging a hand down her damp face. “Yeah, I realize. Sorry.”

D took a slow sip of his beer before cocking his face in her direction. “You're not usually late. What happened?”

“Nothing, just...the typical shit.”

D turned in his seat to face her, his hand sliding across the bar top to grip her wrist. “Tell me.”

“It's nothing...something. I don't know, it's hard to say. The entire S.H.I.E.L.D. clusterfuck has everyone riled, even my people. It's making things a bit tense.”

“Anything I can do?”

Juniper smirked. “I can think of a few things.”

D's lips twitched into a smile. “Anything useful to your job, I mean.”

She hummed. “I'll let you know. Oh...and speaking of? I should have what our...mutual friend...was looking for within a day, or two. Let him know, yeah?”

D's lips twitched, belying his even tone. “Not a problem.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Juniper could see Luke making his way down the bar. She turned her head to meet his eyes, but his gaze was fixed on the side of D's face. Jesus Christ.

“Hey, Luke.” She flashed him a quick smile, but he didn't respond—either to her greeting or smile. All of his half-hostile attention was focused on D.

“You doing alright, man? Another beer?”

D cocked his head in Luke's direction. “Thanks.”

Luke hovered for a moment, glancing between the two of him. His jaw muscles rippled as he pressed his lips tight. It took a second, but he seemed to shake off whatever the hell had crawled up his ass. “I don't think I've seen you around...I'm Luke.”

D didn't so much as raise a brow at Luke's...whatever that was. Posturing? Subtle threat? Either way, he reached out to grasp Luke's trash-can sized palm and shook. 

“Matt. Murdock. My partner and I run a practice not too far from here. Nelson and Murdock.”

Luke nodded, his expression relaxing a bit. His hands busied themselves pulling D's beer. The slippery glass made a dull, wet thunk as Luke set it down, snatching up the empty glass in a well-practiced motion. “Nice to meet you, Matt. You take care of our girl here, and enjoy your beer.”

Juniper fought the urge to throw her water glass at his head. “What the hell, Luke!”

The man just laughed and stalked off, the slippery necks of three beer bottles grasped in each hand.

She twitched when D's hand slid over hers, fingers teasing across the skin of her wrist before wrapping around it. “What was that about?”

She snorted. “Just Luke being Luke. You'd think he was my father, the way he acts.”

“So, what...that was him warning me to behave?”

“Pretty much.”

D's lips twisted into a grin against the rim of his glass. “A little late for that.”

Juniper twisted her wrist in his grip to tease her fingers against his forearm. “None of his goddamn business, anyway, right?”

A gentle tug at her wrist had Juniper sliding forward in her seat. Her eyes lidded as D slid his fingers, slippery from condensation, along the edge of her jaw, and trailed them down her throat. Juniper let out a low hum, her breath hitching as his lips teased across the corner of her mouth. She didn't even notice he'd released her wrist til his hand was tilting her chin towards him. It didn't matter anyway once his beer-chilled lips met hers. It wasn't a particularly long kiss, but it lingered just enough to leave her feeling feverish.

She knew she was probably glowing brighter than the goddamn neons, by the time D pulled away. It wasn't her fault that one kiss from D could get her from pissed-and-rain-soaked to raring-to-go. She licked her lips, wincing at the hops-heavy taste of an IPA. Her hand tangled with the one D had let rest on the bar top, once more. “You ready?”

D's lips curled up in a teasing smile. “And where exactly are we going, Ms. Evans?”

“Mine, yours, the alleyway out back. I'm not picky.”

He laughed, but he raised his hand to wave down Luke, all the same.

“I'll pay my tab now, thanks.”

Luke nodded, his eyes burning a hole into the side of D's face, but D didn't notice. Or, he did, but he pretended not to. Either way, he never once turned his face away from her. 

Juniper met Luke's concerned gaze with a smile, and mouthed 'later' as she waited for D to sign the credit slip. He nodded, looking back only once as he wandered down the bar to serve up another shot to a slight brunette, who downed it like it was water. Juniper lifted a brow, impressed, as she and D made their way outside.

A gust of warm wind and the rivers of murky water trailing off the awning caught them right in the face.

“Fucking New York.”

D laughed.

.. .. ..

Her blackberry buzzed against the cheap-ass press board of her side table, and she swore, loudly and colorfully, into her mattress. Face still half-buried, Juniper fumbled for the phone. A quick, bleary-eyed glance at the display to check the time—3 am—and the caller—D—had her groaning into her sheets even as she answered the call.

“Fucker, you had better be dead or dying in a dumpster to be calling me at three in the goddamn morning.”

D laughed. “Not dead, no.”

“Dying then.”

“Not at the moment.”

Juniper snorted into her mattress. “I don't hear from you for a week, and suddenly it's a 3 am call? Th'shit, D?”

“You can punish me later. I need that information, Juniper. Preferably now.”

She swore, her legs tangling in her sheets as she wriggled her way out of bed. Juniper ignored the sound of laughter as she hopped around, kicking her feet til the sheet fell limply to the floor. Shuffling across the room, half-asleep, she groped around her desk. She squinted, her fingers clumsy as she sorted through the mass of labelled memory sticks. Fuck, I know I'm a mess if I can't even read my own goddamn hand writing.

After a moment of scrabbling, she found it. Appropriately enough, it was the only stop-light red stick, and the only one with a little doodle—a giant, red dildo with devil horns, in this case—instead of a name on the label.

Juniper pulled the phone away from her ear to squint at the time, again. “Give me fifteen, and I'll meet you on the roof for the drop.”

“Don't bother. I'll met you at yours.”

“The hell you will—” a dial tone interrupted her. Juniper sighed. “—I'm not even dressed.”

A low laugh carried across the small bedroom. “Am I supposed to be surprised?”

Juniper startled, whipping around to see the familiar silhouette standing in the threshold of her bedroom. “Did you...did you come in through my bathroom window?”

The man smirked, but didn't answer her question. 

“That's a bit creepy, D.”

“Since when do you care how I come and go?”

“...since you started sneaking in through my bathroom window, apparently.”

“It's not like I haven't seen you naked before...well, relatively speaking.”

Juniper huffed, grabbing one of her sleep shirts and yanking it over her head. “Relatively speaking or not, I'm usually aware you're looking.”

D smirked. “You have the information, then?”

Juniper chucked the USB at Devil-Boy's head, snorting as he snatched it out of the air an inch from his masked face. 

“You're welcome.”

“Thank you, Juniper.”

She tilted her head to consider him. “Red really is your color, you know.”

D snorted.

“No, really. The horns are a bit...much. I mean, unless the point's to let the world know what a horny bastard you are.”

“Real funny, Juniper.”

“I know.” She flashed him a grin. D moved to leave.

“Oh, and D,” he cocked his head to let her know he was listening, “next time? Knock. I'm much better company naked and awake.”

A sex-drenched smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “I'm aware.”

Juniper let a matching smirk tug at her own lips. Yeah, you are. Speaking of...

“You in a hurry, or...”

D's tongue darted quickly across his full lips. “I'm going to have to take a rain check on that.”

Juniper shrugged. “Suit yourself. You have my number.”

D crossed the room in a few slow, measured steps, stopping well within her personal space. Long fingers teased across the base of her neck, snagging in her shirt as they dragged down the front of her thin shirt. His thumb brushed across her nipple, and Juniper shivered.

“You're a goddamn tease, D.”

He smirked, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. With a murmured “see you around,” D stepped back into the shadows of her bedroom and was gone.

A humid breeze wafted in through her open window, the only evidence he'd been there at all. Juniper smiled ruefully. “Great, now I'm wide awake AND turned on. Thanks a lot for nothing. Bastard.”

Juniper flopped back against her mattress and rolled onto her side, yanking open the bottom drawer of her side table. She smiled wryly down at the bright red Tiger Vibe D had slipped under her tree last Christmas. 

“I thought you'd enjoy this more than coal...and in your favorite color, too.”

He'd been right...she had enjoyed it. A lot. To be honest, he'd enjoyed watching her enjoy it a few times, too, when he'd been too tired to do much else.

“It looks like it's just you and me, old friend.”

Twenty minutes later, sated and damp, Juniper fumbled for her phone, flipping it open.

You're a twat-tease, I hope you know. My little red friend will never recover from what I had to do to it—J

She dropped the phone onto her stomach, closing her eyes. It was another minute or two before her phone buzzed.

Thanks for that. Do you know what it's like to have an erection in this suit? I didn't, til just now—D

Juniper laughed.

Friday, dinner and dessert at mine. I'll make it up to you—J

Her phone buzzed nearly as soon as she hit send.

As long as you're dessert, it's a date—D

She snorted, closing her phone and dropping it onto her side table. Dessert, indeed. I'll give him a dessert he'll remember for the rest of his fucking life, that's for damn sure.

Stripping off her damp shirt and kicking her underwear the rest of the way off her foot, Juniper settled back into her bed. With another snort of amusement, she drifted off. She was looking forward to Friday. Of course, when she woke up, she realized she had to get through all of Thursday, first. It wasn't that big of a deal, but without much going on with work, and a handful of worried texts from Luke lighting up her phone, Friday felt an eternity away.

Giant mug of coffee in hand, Juniper shuffled her way across her bedroom. She didn't bother with a robe or a night-shirt. She was undeniable rank from her bit of sexual aerobics last night, and was going to make a mad dash for her shower, as soon as she finished her coffee. She winced as her bare ass met pleather of her desk chair. She took another bracing gulp of her coffee, then picked up her phone.

Message Received: Thursday, 7 am

I haven't heard from you in a few. You doing OK, kid?

Message Received: Thursday, 8 am

I'm not being a goddamn mother hen or whatever the fuck else you think this is, so message me back. OK?

Message Received: Thursday, 9 am

I know you're a big girl, but goddamn if I won't kick your ass if you vanish on me for another two months.

Message Received: Thursday, 10 am

I know you're fucking getting these, don't pretend you aren't. Fucking call me.

Message Received: Thursday, 11 am

Are you just not answering to fuck with me? Is that what this is?

Message Received: Thursday, 12 pm

Grown ass woman or no, if I don't hear from you by 4 pm, I'm showing up, whether or not you're alone.

Juniper let her head drop to her desk, groaning and laughing and cursing her life. She turns up with a date ONCE, and suddenly she needs looking after. She sighed, flipping to Luke's contact number and hit SEND. If she jabbed the button a little too hard...well. Who could blame her?

The phone rang...and rang...and rang...and rang...and rang...annnnd rang...annnnd ranggggg...

She tapped impatiently on the desktop, refusing to hang up. If Luke thought he could blow up her phone and then just not answer, he had another think coming. Juniper sneered at the shrill beep of his voice-mail, hung up, then jabbed the SEND button again.

This time, the called was picked up after the third ring. Only...it wasn't Luke. It was a woman.

“Who the shit keeps calling this number?”

Juniper blinked, pulling the phone away from her ear to stare at it is. After a moment, a smirk slithered across her face. “Considering I was calling Luke, not whoever the fuck you are, I could ask you the same thing.”

A sigh echoed down the line. “Jessica. Jones.”

“Well, Jessica Jones, is Luke there?”

“Yeah, he's just...” a rustle and an indecipherable murmur, then finally Luke's voice.

“Hello?”

“Luke?”

“Juniper? Where the hell have you been?”

She groaned. “Working...and sleeping.”

“And you couldn't pick up your goddamn phone and let me know?”

“What, you want a blow-by-blow of my day, now? Well—”

“Cut the crap. You show up with a strange man at my bar, then fall off the face of the earth, you bet your ass I want you to call me.”

Juniper grit her teeth, fighting the urge to toss her phone across the room. “I'm twenty goddamn years old. You're not my father or my brother, and I sure as hell don't need to check in with you.”

A sigh. “You're right. Just...your mother was my friend, Juni. I take care of my own.”

“I know, Luke. Just...I'll call if I need to, yeah?”

“Yeah, fine. Just...I hated not knowing where you were when you went off to do whatever the hell you were doing.”

She took another sip of coffee, slumping back into her desk chair. “Enough about that. So, who's this Jessica Jones?” 

“I'm hanging up, now.”

“What, you can ask about D-Matt, but I can't ask about Jessica?”

“Good-bye, Juni.”

Juniper snorted, hanging up and tossing her phone onto her bed. She took another long sip of her coffee—lukewarm now, ugh—and rose with a stretch. Her spine let out a symphony of cracks, and she groaned. Oh god. Not as good as sex, but daaaamn close.

A quick sniff of her pits and she grimaced. Yeah, she needed that fucking shower right about now.

Juniper took another monster bite of her sandwich and moaned lewdly. As much as she bitched about New York, she'd never had a grilled Cuban quite like New York deli grilled Cuban. She made a happy sound as she trudged down 10th, keeping an eye out for a cab to flag down. Honestly, it's not like she couldn't walk home, but...she glanced at the sky. Gray fug, and the lingering smell of oncoming rain.

She took another bite, carefully weaving her way through the bustling lunchtime crowds. Juniper absently dodged stray elbows, and swinging briefcases, and stray purses as she made her way back home. She considered, for all of two seconds, stopping by Luke's before she changed her mind. If she dared show her face at his bar, stuffing herself with his favorite sandwich, he'd kill her...then steal the sandwich. Juniper snorted. 

No...first he'd steal my sandwich, and THEN he'd kill me for not sharing.

Her eyes closed as she savored the taste of shredded pork, and peppers, melted cheese, and hot mustard. So goddamn good. Then came the jolt to her shoulder. She squawked, flailing as she damn near went ass over tit into the gutter. A strong grip stopped her fall nearly as soon as it begun.

“Shit, sorry...I wasn't looking—” Juniper's voice died away as her eyes locked onto eyes like ice. Literally. The color alone invited the comparison, but the expression...it was fucking frozen. Dead. Blank. What have you. It was unnerving. And that goddamn face...

The man, built like a brick wall, slowly pulled her to her feet without a word. He tugged his greasy ball cap further down his forehead, hiding his eyes and all but the ends of scraggly brown fringe. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his too large jacket, but not before Juniper noticed a dull, metallic gleam.

What..? Oh god, is he..?

The grizzled jaw clenched, his lips pressing tight. She couldn't tell if it was out of pure awkwardness, or because he'd noticed her noticing his goddamn metal arm. Either way, his shoulders hunched up tight, like he was deciding between fighting or fleeing. She swallowed heavily, flashing him a weak smile, then made the choice for him.

Shoulders hunched up nervously, she turned her back on the man and continued making her way down 10th. Only this time? This time she was the one doing the pushing and the elbowing. Juniper didn't even notice when her Cuban bit the dirt, thanks to a stray purse. Sure, it was a shame to lose the sandwich, but...she's much rather go without it than her head.

...maybe Luke's idea about checking in every few days wasn't such a bad one.

.. .. ..

 

Juniper fiddled with her phone, her knee jumping anxiously as she slouched back against her headboard.

We still on for tonight?-J

She let her head fall back against the wall as she waited for D's answer. She bit back a blue streak when her phone buzzed, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

What happened?-D

Juniper snorted, rubbing at her face roughly. 

Why do you assume something happened?-J

She bit her lip, tapping her phone anxiously against her chest.

You never call to confirm. Never. So, either you've started observing common courtesy, or something happened.-D

She smirked. Bastard.

Nothing much. Nothing at all, really. Just got kind of spooked yesterday. I'm fine.-J

Juniper fiddled with the phone, nearly dropping it onto her face when it buzzed again.

If you were fine, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm coming over. Now.-D

That, at least, was something to smile about.

Can't wait.-J

The phone buzzed nearly as soon as she hit send.

Talking first, then screwing, Evans.-D

Juniper groaned. “Fucking—the fuck would I want to talk for?”

You better deliver this time. Twat-tease.-J

She let herself slump onto her side, bringing her knees to her chest. “Me and my fucking big mouth.”

“I happen to like your big mouth.”

Juniper squealed...an honest-to-God, 5-year-old-girl-with-craft-paper-on-Valentine's-Day squeal. Her arms flailed as she rolled, and only D's quick grab stopped her from going head-first off the edge of her bed. “GODDAMNIT, D. Wha...can you not with the sneaking in through the bathroom window?!” 

“OK, now I know you're not fine. You're never this twitchy.”

“The fuck you say, 'twitchy.' I am NOT twitchy. SOMEONE just likes sneaking in through my bathroom window.”

D's lips twitched. “He sounds like a creep.”

“Just a bit, yeah...”

D hummed, lowering himself to a seat right next to her head. Normally, she'd take the chance to roll over and bury her face in his thigh, but she was feeling pissed about the whole sneaking up on her thing...again. 

“Seriously. What's got you so worried?”

Juniper rubbed at her face slowly, stalling. She twitched again, fucking damn it, when D tangled his fingers in her hair, gently playing with and tugging at the strands. His nails scraped across her scalp, and she arched her neck. D laughed, scraping a bit harder and tugging again.

“Feel good?”

“You know it does, prick.”

“Speaking of pricks,” he nudged her with his hip. Juniper swatted at his stomach, “if you want mine, you better tell me what happened.”

“That was awful, D. Seriously.”

“...and you're stalling, Juniper.”

She sighed. “It's really nothing. Stupid, even.”

“Less stalling, more telling.”

Her lips cheeks puffed out as she let loose a gusty sigh. “Fine. I was distracted—”

“—with what?”

“A Cuban sandwich to kill for.”

“—better than the one's we got in Brooklyn?”

She scoffed. “That place? They have better at the deli on 10th. Now shut up and stop interrupting.”

D lifted his hands in surrender. Juniper bumped her head against his knee, and he dropped his hands back into her hair to continue his petting. She pinched his knee, but otherwise didn't comment on his guffaw. Screw pride. Head pets are life.

“Anyway...where the hell was I? OH. I was distracted with food, and I bump into this guy...like, really bump into him. I was lucky I didn't dislocate a shoulder.” She grasped at D's hands as he moved to brush against her shoulders, “Story first, fussing later, D.”

She raised an eyebrow, only letting go of his fingers when he nodded his agreement. After a moment, he went back to playing with her hair. “So anyway, I nearly take a nosedive into the gutter. I didn't, of course, but only because he just...grabs me, stopping my fall dead before I could hit the ground...still....”

Juniper stared blankly up at her ceiling, trying not to shiver at the memory as those dead fucking eyes.

“...Still, what?”

She frowned, rolling onto her side and burying her face against his thigh. “His eyes, D. I've seen some cold-ass stares in my line of work, but those. It was like looking at a mannequin. Worse. Looking at a mannequin that wants to stab you in the face. Anyway, it was fine until I noticed his arm. It...it was fucking metal.”

“He had a metal arm?”

“What'd I just say? Yeah, his arm was metal. He must have noticed that I noticed, because for a second, I thought he was going to go for my throat. He didn't, but...I high-tailed it, D.”

“As you should have.”

Juniper swallowed again, clenching her eyes shut. She tried not to think of her mom, of that last time she'd seen the dead-eyed man with the metal arm. She failed. “...that wasn't even the worst part.”

“Then what was?”

“...I knew him.”

She felt D go still, his fingers shaking as they paused in their steady, threading movements. “Who was he, Juniper?”

Juniper shook her head, and buried it further against his thigh.

“Juniper?”

“...there are some things that are just too fucked to tell even you, D.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. At least on her part, she couldn't think of a damn thing to say. D seemed to hesitate, then flopped back onto her mattress. Juniper's head bounced as he landed, her nose bumping his thigh.

She groaned. “...please tell me I didn't ruin the mood for tonight. I think I just about killed Red last time.”

D choked, the mattress shaking as he laughed. “It doesn't have to ruin a damn thing if you don't want it to.”

Juniper rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. She peered over her shoulder at D and grinned. “Good to hear.”

Matt bumped her with his hip. Juniper laughed. “I've missed you, D,” her fingers plucked at his shirt, danced lightly down the front, sliding across thighs, and down the length of a clothed prick, “and you.”

A rough guffaw. “Only you, Juniper.”

Her lips curled up into a smirk, even as she continued petting at his stiffening cock. “Hush, now. The grown ups are talking.”

D's choked on his laugh, his hips arching up against her palm. “Excuse me for interrupting, then.”

Juniper smirked. “You're forgiven.”

She batted away his hands, nipping at fingertips, as he fumbling with his buttons and zip. “The hell, Juniper...”

She shushed him, laughing even as she mouthed at the buttons, tugging the zip lightly with her teeth. Matt's breath hitched, and she snorted lightly against his skin. His stomach muscles fluttered, and he tugged at her hair. “Who's the tease now?”

She ignored him, grinning at every ripple of muscle as her lips and hair teased the sensitive strip of skin above his groin. Finally, the last of his jean buttons popped loose, and denim-covered hips arched to press against her lips. Juniper smirked, victorious, sliding her lips to press against the V of bare skin peeking through the gaping jeans. Matt shuddered.

She hummed, tilting her head back to look up the length of his body. “You waiting for something? An engraved invitation, maybe?”

He snorted, nudging her face aside as he slid his hand down into his pants to free his erection. Juniper wrapped her lips around the knuckle of his thumb and sucked, choking on a snort as his entire hand spasmed. 

“...oh, fuck you, Juni.”

Juniper laughed, sliding her lips to press against his hips as she chortled. “That was the plan, yes.”

He groaned, gripping the base and lifting his hips to arch the tip towards her lips. “If I give you what you want, will you shut up?”

“No guarantees.” Juniper smirked, then finally wrapped her lips around the glans, and sucked.

D's cried out, loudly. She grinned. She didn't even care if her neighbors complained, or slipped yet another note under her door, telling her to shut the fuck up, please and thank you. All that mattered was the play of muscles in D's hips and stomach as she teased him with her tongue. All that other shit...meant fuck-all in comparison to the look on D's face as she took him into her mouth.

Juniper wrapped her lips around as much of D as she could handle, and swallowed. He grunted, tugging at her hair. She hummed low in her throat. D's voice cracked like a goddamn prepubescent as he damn near tried to crawl, cock-first, into her mouth. She snorted, pulling away with one last, lingering suck.

“The fu', Juni...”

She scoffed. “Like hell you're the only one getting off tonight, D. Like. Hell.”

D grumbled in complaint, but didn't waste any fucking time shedding the works. Juniper was almost certain she heard something delicate crack as he kicked off his shoe, but...again...she gave zero fucks. Sexy-Times now, caring about stupid shit later. Of course, she didn't twiddle her thumbs while he was stripping down. She slipped from her clothes like a snake shedding its skin. Even before he'd completely settled back on her bed, she was straddling his hips.

For a long moment, she just touched him, working her fingers through the hair on his chest and stomach, tracing the curves of his muscles. He sighed, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks as she touched him. Juniper smiled softly, finally taking him in hand. 

D's head fell back as he sank down into the mattress. His hands trailed lazily up her thighs, teasing the skin of her stomach, sides, and finally coming to rest on her breasts. Rough thumbs brushed slow circles around her nipples, and his hips twitched up as they hardened under his touch.

“You wait much longer, it's not going to be me who's left frustrated.”

Juniper scoffed, but pulled her hand away from his lovely prick. She tore open the condom and slipped it on with no fuss. This was old hat for them; she barely had to think about it anymore. She tossed the wrapper off the edge of her bed, not even caring, as she slid up his thighs to his hips. She lifted up just enough to position him, then slowly lowered herself onto him.

Her breath caught as she felt her body stretch wide around him, his cock pushing deep. It was almost like being a virgin, every goddamn time...only, without the awkwardness and premature finish.

Her fingers splayed against the wall, the rough pads clinging to the dips and crevices, Juniper braced herself as she rocked her hips forward, then back. Her eyes locked on D's face, watching as the slow pace dragged a groan from his lips. Forward and back, like the beat of her heart, and as easy as breathing. Again, and again, and again. 

Juniper smirked, relishing every moan, every twitch as D lost his mind to their agonizing pace. Her hips lifted as she moved with him, and fell back as she took him deep. Sweat beaded his forehead, trailing down his neck, staining his chest hair dark. His hands spasmed around her breasts, and she gave a little cry as the pads of his thumbs dragged across her nipples.

Her fingers twined with his, she dragged one hand from her breast, down her chest, and buried between her thighs. Fingertips—first hers, then his, then theirs—danced against her clit, brushing across where they were joined. D's hand twitched, fingers pressing down on her inner thigh every time she took him deep, his thumb dragging up her clit every time she rocked forward. Juniper's head fell forward, a curtain of sweat-damp hair falling in her face, brushing across D's collarbone as she moved with him.

Her hand clenched around his other hand, clasping it to her breast. Her body clenched with every brush of his thumb, every tug of clever fingers. She groaned, and D, the bastard, let out a rumbling laugh. Were she not so determined to keep his hand right where it was—on her breast—she would have swatted at his head. He smirked, and Juniper clenched down around him, hard, in retaliation.

The jerk loved it, thrusting upwards harder and deeper. Juniper snorted. “You think you're so clever.”

He grinned. “No, I know I'm clever. There's a difference.”

“Fuck you.”

“I thought that's what we were doing.”

Juniper snorted. “You ass.”

D grinned, his hips lifting to meet hers in hard, rolling thrusts. She pressed their twined hands tight against her, sliding fingers across her clit. Juniper felt hot and messy and wet and sweaty and wanted to fucking cum already, god. The more they teased her clit, the harder he thrust, the deeper she took him, the more she wanted it. “D...”

Full lips twisted up into a breathless grin. “I'm sorry, what was that about waiting for an invitation?”

Juniper choked on a laugh as she pushed back against him, meeting his hard thrusts with even harder ones. A thumb dragged up around the edge of her clit, and pressed down, massaging in time with his thrusts.

She lost. Her goddamn. Mind.

“SONUVASHIIIIIT.”

Juniper came, hips jerking as she rode out her orgasm. She was still flailing when D rolled her onto her back, pressing her knees to her chest and fucked her until he, too, came with a yell. She was pretty sure she heard something about unicorns and starlight, but...well.

404 Error: Brain Not Found. Le Dumb, Thou Art Sex Induced. Etc. It was best to take anything she heard, post-coital, with a grain of salt.

The after-glow was pleasant for all of three seconds before her bladder started screaming. With a sigh, she shoved D from between her legs and rolled out of bed. Half stumbling, half tripping, Juniper made her way to the bathroom, her body nearly folding in half as she lowered herself to the seat. For a second, she eyed the shower. She was sure it would feel wonderful on her muscles, but...no. That could wait. Her eyes already half shut, she shuffled back to her bed, flopping onto her stomach. D, already half-gone, latched onto her limp body, sliding her across the dirty sheets to tug her close.

Eugh, so...the both o them were showering as soon as they fucking woke up. She rolled away, letting D spoon up behind her. Still a little gross, with his sweaty chest hair, but at least she wasn't breathing the funk into her lungs. Growling snores rumbled in her ears as D drifted off. A quick tug of his arm and shift of her hips, and D's hip, not her own, was pressed into the wet spot.

Success. Now...at last...she could sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D uses all the skills at his disposal to get what he wants from Juniper.

“You're not serious? D, tell me you're not fucking serious!”

Juniper's smirk fell away at D's placid expression. He took a slow sip of coffee, his posture betraying how very few shits he gave that he was standing, stark-ass-naked and sleep-rumpled, in the middle of her kitchen. “I'm dead serious, Juniper. I want you to come stay with me for a while.”

“Is this...are you worried about what I said yesterday?”

D quirked a brow, taking another slow sip of coffee. She huffed. OK, so...stupid question. The fact that he was inviting her to invade his personal space was proof enough of that. Even so...this wasn't just D being worried; if that's all it was, he'd brood a bit and caution her to be careful. No, this was him expression genuine goddamn concern for her safety, which...that was either really considerate or really condescending.

“It'll be fine.”

He grunted, his mouth twisted into a grimace against the glass of his coffee mug. Juniper rolled her eyes.

“I'll keep an eye out, and make sure to check in with Luke...” D's lips pulled down with every word that passed her lips. She sighed. OK, now the concern was bordering on condescending. She didn't assume D meant to be insulting, but the dickish attitude wasn't appreciated, either way.

“I'm a big girl, D. I can feed and dress myself—hell, tie my own shoes—without supervision. I'll be fine.”

D's head flopped back on his neck, and he dragged a hand roughly down his face. “That's not how I meant it, Juniper. If that man was who I think he was, he's dangerous—not just to you, but to me, too. I just figured...safety in numbers.”

Juniper sighed, stretching languidly as she padded her way into the kitchen. She slipped behind him, winding her arms around his waist. She pressed a damp kiss between his shoulder blades, letting her forehead fall forward to rest against him. “Sorry. I know you didn't mean to be a prick about it.”

“...but I was being one, apparently.”

“Just a bit, yeah.” Her lips curled into a smirk. “You sure do manage to be a prick about a lot of things, D. You sure it's not another one of your super-powers?”

D snorted.

She pinched him lightly in the side, smirking as he twitched. “Seriously though, I didn't tell you that shit to make you worry.”

D twisted in her hold, tugging her to his chest. “I'd rather you tell me and let me worry, than leave me in the dark.”

Juniper tittered.   
D snorted, his eyes slipping closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is it with you and puns? It isn't even that funny.”

“It kinda is.”

“Only because your sense of humor sucks.”

She squawked in protest, pinching D's side harder, this time. D jerked, twisting out of reach as she went in for another one. 

“My sense of humor doesn't suck, you asshole.”

D nodded, his lips twitching. “It does, though.”

It looked like he was straining to keep himself from smiling. Juniper's fingers skid up D's chest, tweaking a nipple before he could arch away. 

“Owww.”

“Baby.”

“Am not. You pinched my nipple.” 

She scoffed, “You practically twisted mine off, but you don't hear me complaining.”

“...because you're a masochist...”

Juniper arched her eyebrow, her fingers hovering in threat over his sore nipple. “What was that?”

“Nothing. I said nothing.”

“Fucking right, nothing. I'll show you nothing.” With one final pinch—this one to D's ass—Juniper settle back against his side. 

They stood in silence for a few minutes, their heart-beats settling. D finished his coffee before Juniper felt the need to pick up their conversation again.

“Honestly, D...if you're worried enough that you'd let me intrude in your space—”

“—You wouldn't be intruding. I invited you.”

“Fine, if you're worried enough to put up with Foggy ragging you, then...I'll consider it.”

“'Considering it' isn't going to cut it.”

“No?”

D flashed her a wry smile. “I'm a lawyer. I like to have all my contractual agreements in writing, signed in triplicate.”

Juniper laughed. D rested his chin on her head. “Seriously...come stay with me.”

“I'll consider it...which, by the way, isn't a no, so you can stop acting like it is.”

“Well, it isn't a 'yes,' either, is it?”

“True enough.”

“What do I need to do to convince you?”

Juniper's lips twitched up into a smile. “Negotiating terms, are we?”

“Perhaps.”

She dragged her eyes across D's furry chest, across his broad shoulders, her gaze lingering on his full lips. An exaggerated leer twisted her smile. “We~ll, if we're negotiating...”

D's head dipped as he lowered his mouth to hers, teasing her into a coffee-flavored kiss. Juniper hummed, nipping at his lip playfully as he tried to pull away. His lips curled into a smile against hers. “Convinced yet?”

“Shit no. You want to convince me, you better fucking convince me.”

He smirked, turning her in his arms. “Should I state my case, then?”

“You're the lawyer, D. Do what you do best.”

She watched as he set his empty mug against the counter, and steered her backwards til her back hit the wall. “Ladies...sorry, lady of the Jury, I present to you, for your consideration...”

Her back pressed to the wall and her knees hooked over D's shoulders, Juniper heard his case. For twenty goddamn minutes. His chin was in need of a shave, but his lips and tongue were still hot from his coffee, and holy fuck did they make a compelling argument. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she was more impressed by his...eloquence...or by the fact that he had her pinned to the wall, literally shouldering her goddamn weight as he buried his face between her thighs.

Her face felt hot, her tangled hair clinging to her face. She felt her breath catch in her chest with every prod against her clit. By the end of those twenty (glorious, too fucking short) minutes, she was ready to cry out “Case Closed,” even as she came on his face.

...and D? He didn't even look winded. Oh, he looked ready to bend her over the counter and fuck her stupid, but not actually tired from holding her up.

Juniper pushed her hair away from her sweaty face, her knees shaking as D rose to his feet. “OK. So. You make a compelling argument, D. Consider me convinced.”

D chortled, pressing his lips to her temple in a brief kiss. “In that case, you should probably start calling me Matt.”

She shot him a confused look.

“Foggy knows about...all that, but Karen doesn't, and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“You're the boss, D—Matt,” she snorted. “OK, so, I'll need to actually think before I speak, but I'll manage.”

“I'm sure you will.”

D shifted, his hips jutting out a bit, his breathing a bit ragged as his hard cock twitched. Juniper smirked. “...but before we deal with the moving-in crap..?”

Her hand reached out to wrap around D—fucking hell, Matt's prick. He moaned—a low, happy rumble deep in his chest—as Juniper lead him by the, er, balls to her bed.

Matt grunted.

A cloud of dust blossomed up around his head as he tugged the suitcase out of the match-box closet. Juniper smirked. “If you had told me what you were digging around for, I would have told you. I keep my dufflebag under my bed.”

The wheels clicked as he rolled the suitcase across the floor, pushing it over to flop heavily to the floor. She sighed. “Seriously, D—fuckin'...Matt. I'm moving in for a week,” she held up her hand, interrupting his protest, “a few weeks. I don't need a bag that big. My old duffle will be fine. It's not like you don't have access to a washer.”

Matt sighed. “You'll need stuff for work, too. Might as well put everything you need into this,” he kicked at the giant suitcase. “I'd rather not have us making too many trips back and forth.”

Juniper stared up at him, her brows migrating slowly up her forehead. “Paranoid?”

“Yes. You should be, too. You heard about the attack in D.C.”

She flopped onto the edge of her bed, toeing open the suitcase. “Fair enough. So! Underwear, bras—”

“—Are you sure the underwear isn't optional?”

“Unless you want to be cut off because my jeans chafed my crotch?” 

Matt shook his head. Juniper snorted.

“Yeah, didn't think so. Where was I?”

She tucked the stack of folded bras in next to the underwear, turning to reach for her pile of shirts, socks, and jeans. “Uh, shit.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just...don't let me forget to drop off my keys with Luke, yeah? He has this bad habit of showing up uninvited, and if he thinks I split on him, he'll kill me...then track you down and kill you, too. He could do it, too. His new...whatever-the-hell-they-are, Jessica Jones? I looked her up. She's a P.I.”

“Noted.” 

Juniper heaved herself up off her bed, slumping over to her desk to empty the drawers of files, her handful of loose USB memory sticks, and grab her work tablet—the only thing more important than her blackberry. The latter had all her contacts, but the former held every bit of information she'd accumulated over the years. To be honest, it was kind of her primary brain, when it came to work related shit. She hugged it to her chest as she shuffled over to her suitcase and carefully packed it away, along with the hard copies of files and the memory sticks.

“You have everything?”

She stared absently at her ceiling. “Uh..? OH, shit. Comb, toothbrush, toothpaste! Deodorant! Uhm...shampoo! Um...what else? Oh...condoms, too.”

Matt snorted. “Just grab your toothbrush and comb. I give you permission to use my toothpaste and shampoo. Anything else we can pick up at the pharmacy.”

Juniper pressed a kiss to Matt's chin. “...and you say you're not a romantic. Liar, liar, Matt's pants are on fire.”

He smirked. “Shut up.”

She pinched his side as she stumbled off to grab her bathroom things. It was a work of only a few minutes to straighten everything up, close her blinds, load her dishwasher and set it to run. Right before they were to step out the door, Juniper dashed back into her kitchen, dumping all her perishables into a heavy-duty trash bag, and shoving it into Matt's arms. The click of the lock seemed almost loud in the silent hallway. She sighed.

Juniper knew she wouldn't be away forever, but it still kind of felt like she was saying good-bye.

.. .. ..

Luke stared down his nose at Matt for a long stretch, long enough that Juniper was half-concerned that he was going to deck him in the face. She let out a shaky breath when his eyes slid from Matt's forehead to her face. His eyes bored into her, taking in every tick, every tell. It was a long fucking moment before the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. Finally, he stretched out a hand, and Juniper dropped her keys into them. Slowly, long, thick fingers wrapped around them before tucking them away in his back pocket.

Any other person had done that, after telling her he'd keep her shit safe? Juniper would have kicked his ass. Nobody in their right mind would think to call a back pocket safe. This was different...this was Luke; nobody in their right mind would try pick-pocketing Luke. The size of him alone would deter all but the most terminally stupid.

“You don't have to check in on the place or anything, just...hold onto those for a few weeks...maybe grab the mail on occasion, yeah?”

Luke scoffed. “You sure you're not lying about being in trouble? It seems like you're fucking lying.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “No trouble and no lying about trouble, Luke. Really. Just the opposite. This is me trying to completely and honestly cover my ass.”

The man was practically bent in half as he leaned on his elbows, but fuck if he wasn't still head-and-shoulders above her. “You think shit's about to go down?”

Juniper shrugged. “Can't say for sure. Just...I've seen a few faces in the crowd that I didn't expect to see, and frankly, didn't want to see.”

“Who'd you see?”

Her eyes darted around the bar, admittedly paranoid. Green eyes met brown and held for a long moment. “...you'd recognize him, if you saw him. He's not someone you forget.”

Luke jerked away, startling a few of the regulars. Juniper saw the tendons in his neck bulge as he visibly restrained himself from putting his fist through a wall. He kept his jaw clenched tightly shut, biting back what was probably a blue streak to cap every fucking last one of them as he rolled his head on his neck, flexing his shoulders. Giant palms cupped the back of his head for a long moment as he glared at the ceiling. Matt kept absolutely still by her side, his hand brushing against her wrist in a silent inquiry.

She squeezed his fingertips in reassurance.

Juniper watched Luke slowly pull his shit together and fall back into his slouch over the bar top. “Fuck.”

“...my thoughts, exactly.”

Luke's eyes darted up to pin her in place with what she privately called his 'Over-Bearing Big Brother Glare.' “You are going to call or message me every damn day, or I swear to God, I'm tracking him down,” he jabbed a finger in Matt's direction, “and taking my concern out of his ass.”

She snorted, ignoring Matt as he jostled her with his elbow.

“I'm not fucking around with this, Juniper Evans.”

She winced. “I promise. Every goddamn day,” she offered up her pinky. “Pinky swear, and everything.”

Luke snorted, gently pushing away her hand. “See that you do. I'll call you if I hear anything.”

“...and if you see him?”

His hands flexed around the bar top, the wood creaking alarmingly. “You'll hear about it.”

Juniper stared down her nose at Luke for a long moment. He didn't flinch. She rolled her eyes. “Just don't get yourself killed, idiot.”

Luke waved her out of his bar with a scoff. She laughed, her hand wrapped around Matt's wrist as they weaved their way through the cramped tables and out the door...just in time to collide with a living, breathing He-Man, minus the bowl cut and banana hammock.

Seriously, his pecs were bigger than her head. Hell, bigger than his. She hadn't thought that was possible. He blinked down at her as she bounced off of his chest, ricocheting into Matt's. Matt caught her, stumbling just a bit as he braced her. Mr. Universe didn't budge so much as an inch.

Juniper raised an incredulous brow. “Uh...sorry. I—and I can't believe I'm saying this—didn't see you there.”

Barbie's Wet Dream lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, and baby blues stared down at her with all the innocent sincerity of a Sitcom Mom from the 50s. It was...weird. “No, sorry...you're not hurt?”

“Just my ego. I'll live.”

The Abs-merican Dreamboat flashed her a smile (and of course there were goddamn dimples involved... OF COURSE), stepping to the side to let them slip past. His eyes seemed to linger on her face as she passed. Juniper turned to give him a look, a seriously-skeeved-out “What The Actual Shit” on the tip of her tongue.

“You look...” Uncle Sam's Hot Cousin blinked, his ridiculously pretty blonde lashes fluttering. “Sorry, ma'am. You just...reminded me of someone I used to know.”

Juniper pressed her lips together tightly, stepping around him carefully. “It's fine. See you around, I guess.”

Flash Gordon gave her a polite nod, then slowly stepped into Luke's bar. 

She stared after him, brows furrowing as she watched him through the glass...saw him make a beeline for Luke and ask him...something. Juniper could almost see the bizarrely sincere look on his face. Luke's jaw clenched, his shoulders tightening. He was so fucking still. She'd only seen him get that goddamn still when he was stone-walling someone...or seconds away from putting them in traction for life.

Matt tugged on her wrist. “Come on. Food's getting cold.” He hefted the paper sack bearing their feast. It rustled as the carry-out containers shifted around inside.

Juniper frowned, but let herself be tugged away. She didn't so much as give a backward glance. It was Nachos and Beer night, after all. Her stomach rumbled. She couldn't wait.

“Fuh nuva thittt.”

Matt snorted, his lips pressed tight to the back of his hand as he tried not to choke on his mouthful of beer. Even so, her full-to-capacity mouth quirked at as a foamy line of beer-drool trickled out the corner of his mouth.

Juniper swallowed, rolling her eyes at a hysterical Matt. “It's not funny. That fucking salsa con queso is thermonuclear. I'm not even kidding. It feels like I licked the inside of a volcano.”

“Delicious though, right?”

She kicked out her foot to nudge at Matt's ankle. “I'm sure it is. I'll have to wait to tell you when my taste buds come back.”

Matt's smirked as he snatched up another chip covered in grilled onions and peppers, meat, and said thermonuclear queso. She watched as he shoved the chip into his mouth with relish, not even flinching as the spicy cheese hit his tongue. Asshole.

He didn't drop that smirk, not for one second, as he chewed his mouthful and washed it down with a gulp of beer. He let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-groan. “Delicious.”

“...I fucking hate you right now.”

In went another mouthful of smothered chips. “Nuh yuh dun.”

Juniper nodded slowly, her eyes locked on his mouth. “I really do...I also know where you sleep, so I'd watch my ass, if I were you.”

“Gonn' ki' my ass?” He snorted, laughing around his mouthful.

“Fucking bet I will.”

He swallowed heavily. “Admit it. You like my ass too much to kick it.”

“Depends.”

“On?”

Juniper slapped away his fingertips as he went for another large cluster of cheesy chips. “On if you keep taking the best bits, jerk.” She snagged up the cluster, whining as she worked around the hot cheese, trying to not to make a huge mess are her teeth crunched down onto the gooey mass. She ignored Matt's guffaw as she ate. Like hell was he going to steal all the best chips, if she could help it.

“You burned your tongue just so I couldn't have that?”

A gulp of beer helped with the burn. “Maybe.”

“Was it worth it?”

A burp rumbled up her chest. Matt snorted, swiping at his nose as he choked on his beer. She smirked. “Totally worth it.”

Juniper ate in silence, still fucking pleased with herself (honestly, that was like a 10, even for Luke, and the dude could buuuurp), sipping at her beer to cool her mouth every few bites.

She jolted, looking up, when a spit-slick finger jabbed her in the forehead. Matt's head was cocked, his mouth set in a somber tilt. His gaze was set just slightly over her shoulder, but she fucking knew all his focus was on her. Christ, it was going to be one of those conversations. Juniper grimaced, wiping at the spitty, greasy spot his finger had left behind. “Just ask already.”

Matt's lips twitched. “What?”

Juniper shot him an unimpressed look. “Cut the crap.”

“What?”

“Just ask whatever it is you're dying to ask, already.”

“What makes you think I want to ask something?”

“Matt. I've seen you naked. I know about your chronic gas issues and your snoring. I think I can safely say I know you well enough to know when you want to ask me something.”

“Wait, what do you mean 'chronic gas issues'?! I'm not that bad—!”

“First of all? Stalling. Secondly? My cat ran away and never came back...you literally terrified a defenseless creature into choosing the street life with your toxic ass.”

“...is that where Guacamole went?”

“Yes. Luke found her, but she refused to fucking come back, so she's his cat, now.”

“Huh.”

“Enough stalling. Out with it.”

“Fine, but you're not going to like it.”

“I assumed as much, considering you haven't actually asked me anything yet.”

Matt took a breath, leaning back in his chair, his feet bumping hers as he stretched his legs beneath the table. “I know you're not big on the sharing thing, but...what about this guy had you so spooked?”

“Aside from him looking like he wanted to stab me in the face?”

“Juni, I've met your friends. If it was just the face-stabbing, I doubt you would have said anything.”

Juniper crunched on a chip. Honestly, her friends weren't that bad. Well, not all of them, and definitely not all the time.

“I said I knew him—”  
“—I do recall that, yes.”

“—but, that's not really...” she let out a frustrated sound, “I haven't actually met him, but I know who he is, if that makes any sense.”

“I guessed as much, anyway. The way Luke reacted, I assume he knows about him, too.”

She took a deep pull of her beer. “You could say that.”

“...you ever going to tell me how you know him...know of him?”

“Matt. I wasn't kidding. There's some shit that's just too messed up to talk about. This is one of those things,” she trailed off at the frustrated look on his face. She reached across the table to grasp his wrist and squeezed gently. “I'm not shutting you out, I'm really not. I know you can handle yourself, and if I thought it would do you any good to know, I'd tell you. Just...trust me that you don't need to know about this shit. You have enough to worry about without shouldering my crap, too...alright?”

He took another pull of his beer, leveling the bottle at her like an accusing finger. “Fine, but...if this comes back to bite you in the ass, I'm pointing Luke in your general direction.”

Juniper laughed. “You wouldn't even.”

“Wouldn't—fucking watch me. I can admit to being reckless, Juniper, but I'm not stupid.”

“I suppose not. Now can we shut up about this already? It's beer and nacho night!”

Matt snickered. “Fine. I'll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm still telling Luke on you, if you get in trouble.”

“...jerk.”

.. .. ..

Message Received: Tuesday, 9 am.

Juni. You better not have been lying to me about being in trouble. I've had Captain fucking America sniffing around the place for a goddamn week.

Juniper choked on her coffee, nearly spitting her mouthful onto the phone clutched in her hands. She quickly snapped out a message:

The hell, Luke? That's who Tall-Pale-and-Pretty was?-J

A brief pause, and her phone let out an angry sounding buzz.

Guess so. He seemed real interested in hearing about your mother.-L

She stared at her phone for the long time, blinking slowly. She took another sip of coffee, and blinked again. Yeah, she'd read that right. Still didn't make any fucking sense.

What the shit? Her phone buzzed with a new text, even as she was processing the last one.

I didn't ask questions, and sure as hell made it clear I wasn't answering his, either.-L

Juniper could almost hear the impatience in Luke's voice. Honestly, she couldn't blame him for being a sour-ass. As swell a guy as she was sure Captain Ken-Doll was, he wasn't really the clientele Luke catered to. He'd make his patrons nervous, and nervous patrons were, more often than not, absent ones, in Hell's Kitchen.

So, he's got nothing on her, then.-J

Nothing on her, no. MaLu might have opened her mouth and blabbed about you, though. Surprised the shit out of him, too, but...I made sure to cut her off before she could say too much.-L

Fucking—! Juniper let out a frustrated cry, barely noticing Matt jerk awake. 

Thanks.-J

Matt snorted into his pillow and flopped onto his back. He yawned, his mouth stretching wide. With his lips twisted in a snarl and his face a mass of stubble, he reminded her of a bear. Juniper pat his stomach absently. He hummed sleepily.

Sure, kid. I'll keep in touch.-L

The rumble of Matt's stomach was her only warning, then the smell of sleep sweat and ass wafted up from the gap in the sheets. Juniper winced and shuffled to the kitchen, well away from the stench. She took a deep whiff of her coffee to clear the burn from her nostrils.

Yeah. If he starts causing too much trouble, I'll arrange a sit-down at the bar. I'll even bring Matt, if that will make you feel better.-J

A pause, then her phone buzzed.

Let's not do anything stupid, Juniper.-L

“The hell you say, 'stupid.' You're stupid, letting him disrupt shit in your bar...”

I didn't say I was going to do it now, did I? Just...if he starts causing problems at the bar, OK?-J

Another pause.

Fine. I'll let you know.-L

Juniper could have done a victory lap around the room. At last, a goddamn concession. Shit, but the men in her life were stubborn. She glanced at Matt as he flopped back onto his stomach, serenading her with a grumbling snore and another wheezing ass-blast.

Stubborn and smelly. Jesus, maybe I should start hiding his protein shakes...

“—but why keep hiding them?”

“Matt. Seriously. They make you fucking toxic. I live in constant fear of my life.”

“I refuse to believe it's that bad.”

Juniper snorted. “Last Friday, 3 am.”

“What about it?”

“You remember waking up, freaking out about the toilet backing up again?”

“Vaguely, yeah.”

She snerked. “That was you, dude. You let one rip and woke yourself up. Enough with the protein shakes, already.”

Matt grinned, shrugging sheepishly. Juniper squeezed his bicep. “I know you need to keep fit for...various reasons, but it would be nice if we could still safely share a bed.”

Leaning against the doorway, he threw his head back in laughter. Juniper smirked, holding open the door to Luke's and ushered him inside. “Seriously. You're hot. I'd like to be able to appreciate all the hard work you put into you.”

He chortled. “OK. I give. I'll lay off the shakes for a while.”

Juniper darted up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He caught her lips with his, and the kiss lingered for a moment. She pat his scratchy chin. “My nose and I thank you.”

She let the door slam shut behind her, enclosing her in the smoky, hops-heavy, stale-pretzel haze. Juniper tapped a bit of nicotine gum out into her hand. She never needed it as badly as when she was here. Juniper didn't keep any cigarettes on her anymore, and Matt didn't really smoke, so she'd been managing, but this place...it reeked of menthols, and her fingers itched to rip the pack out of Suze's back pocket and smoke the lot.

“Did Luke happen to mention where we're meeting Wonder Bread?”

She chortled. “Yeah...in the back.”

They pushed their way through the early-evening crowds, Juniper nudging stray chairs out of the way as they wound their way to the corner of the bar, tucked back against the wall. There he was. Beef McStack-Top. Captain America. Just as ridiculously muscular as the first time she'd seen him, but thankfully not decked out in stars and stripes—just jeans, boots, and a vintage leather jacket. He would have almost fit in—almost—were it not for the shock of pale blonde hair neatly parted and combed.

“You the Captain?”

Blue eyes locked on hers and went wide. So, he remembered her from last time, then. Good. This wasn't awkward enough.

“Call me Steve.” Juniper tried for a smile, but failed. She almost didn't want to know what kind of look she was giving him.

For a long moment, he stared at her, stealing the occasional glance at Matt, darting his gaze back to her. She raised a brow in challenge, not quite sure what the hell he was still waiting for. Matt kicked at her foot. She pinched his hip. He nodded subtly in the Cap's direction, and she flushed.

“Introductions, right. This is Matt Murdock. Matt, this is Captain Amer—shit, sorry, Steve,” they shook hands. Judging by Matt's tight expression, the Cap wasn't above a bit of male posturing. Either that, or he'd forgotten to check his strength.

Stevie-Boy dropped his hand to his side, as awkward as a kid meeting his date's father for the first time. His eyes burned into her face, studying her with all the intensity of a soldier memorizing the layout of enemy territory. “I assumed you'd be...older.”

Juniper raised a brow. “You know what they say about assumptions?”

Cap shook his head, his surprisingly heavy brows furrowed. “I'm sure I don't, ma'am.”

She smirked. “They make an ass out of you and me.”

The Blonde Bombshell rolled his eyes, and she was sure she heard him mutter him something about being “just like Stark.”

Matt poked her in the side, and she twitched, pushing his hand away from her sensitive ribs with a huff.

Cap seemed to pull himself together after a moment and a bracing sip of his ice water. “Ma'am, I have some questions for your mother—”

“—so I've heard—”

“—and would like to speak with her, if I could..”

Juniper gave the man a tight-lipped smile. “I'm afraid that's impossible.”

He sighed, as if he had suspected as much. “Maybe you can answer my questions, then, though—you're probably a bit young to have the answers I'm looking for.”

She gave him a look.

“No offense, it's just...I was unaware your mother had had a child so late in her life.”

She gave Blonde Wonder another look. “Thirty-six is hardly late in life, anymore.”

The man dipped his head in concession. 

“...and I'm not exactly in diapers and onesies, either.” 

Steve nodded again...but still, he said nothing, asked fucking nothing. Juniper was baffled. He obviously didn't think she'd be able to give him what he wanted, so there was no reason for him to stick around. Yet? He was still standing there, staring. 

Juniper flopped back into a bar stool. “So...what's the deal, then?”

“Deal?”

She snorted. “Luke's is great, but...you're Mr. Super-Hero, right? The First Avenger, I think they call you. I don't imagine you have a lot of free time to hang around dive bars, digging up shit on people you've never met.”

Steve glanced around the bar quickly before pulling a photo out of an inner pocket. Her jaw tightened when she saw a candid shot of...him...in a familiar greasy cap and large jacket. His metal arm would have been unnoticeable, had the light not caught it just right. “You know him?”

“You could say that, I suppose.”

The man leaned forward, his blue eyes hard. “You suppose?”

Juniper grinned meanly at the Captain's tone. “That's what I said.”

“Let me ask you this, then. How do you 'supposedly' know him?”

“I don't. Not really. Hence the 'suppose.' I do, however, know who he is...well enough to know better than to make a former fucking introduction.”

Steve nodded, looking frustrated. “Rumor has it he's been spotted somewhere around here.”

“Not a rumor.”

“No?” The hard look was back.

“I bumped into him—literally—on the way back from the deli on 10th.”

“Did he say or do anything strange?”

“Other than look at me like he wanted to stab me in the face? Not particularly. This is Hell's Kitchen, Steve. You get used to that.”

The blonde turned his back on them for a moment, rubbing at his face. Matt pressed close to her side, every muscle tense with frustration. Juniper could tell he was getting impatient with the whole thing. She could have stepped in, stopped him from speaking up, but...the line of questioning was getting old. She'd rather be half-asleep on Matt's couch, watching reruns of Buffy, or some such shit. 

“Let's cut to the chase, Captain. You're looking for Juniper's mother, in relation to that man. Why?”

The man buried his face in his hands and growled. “I told you, I have some questions for her—”

Matt interrupted him. “Why not just ask Juniper, then, and get it over with? She obviously recognized him.”

“It's complicated.”

“Not from where I'm standing. You're looking for a dangerous man, and Juniper said she's seen him around. Newsflash, Wonder Bread: there are lot of dangerous men wandering around—more now than ever, thanks to everything getting smashed to shit.”

The blonde straightened, his shoulders going tight as he turned to stare down Matt. “What happened with the Chitauri wasn't my fault, Mr. Murdock. It was Loki's.”

“He may have headed the invasion, but he wasn't the only one toppling buildings and collapsing subway systems.”

“We did what we had to to save New York—”

“—and nobody's arguing that, just that you and your friends were pretty quick to pack it up and leave, once all was said and done. There are a lot of people suffering in Hell's Kitchen, Captain...a lot of whom weren't beforehand. So, yes...Juniper saw a wanted man on the street. So what. Wasn't the first, and won't be the last.”

Stretch Armstrong's gaze was like a physical weight as he turned to take in the bar and its denizens. The look in his eyes, it was like he was actually seeing instead of just dismissing. They weren't just a crowd of career drunks and junkies, they were people who'd lost everything, or near enough. They were people clinging to the only place—Luke's—and the only people—each other—that they had left.

Steve seemed to almost shrink into himself, folding into the bar stool like a wet towel. Juniper flashed the Captain a tight smile. “Seriously, Captain...we're not trying to play the blame-game. We just want you to stop stalling and tell us what you want.”

The Captain swallowed heavily. He nodded wordlessly, looking lost for a moment as he fidgeted with the photograph. “I've been looking for him...for Bucky,” he hesitated, tapping the photo on the counter, before sliding it across the surface to rest in front of Juniper, “since the incident in D.C.. A friend of mine found some papers on Lily, linking her to him.”

He stared at his hands for a long time. 

“What we found doesn't really make sense, but it was a start. I figured—hoped—that if I could just ask her about what we'd found, then maybe I could find a way to fix things.”

“'Fix things'?”

“Fix Bucky...bring his memories back for good.”

Juniper frowned. Everything about this sucked. She didn't particularly enjoy kicking people while they were down. That was more Wade's forte. “Captain...Steve. My mom...my mom died. A few years ago, now.”

Steve slumped back into his seat. “I'm sorry.”

She waved him off.

“If you don't mind me asking—?”

She hesitated long enough that Blonde and Beautiful turned to meet her eyes. She glanced down at the picture, tapping it against the counter. “...you sure you want to know?”

Matt pressed close, one hand drifting to rest against her hip. Her lips quirked weakly.

“Please, just—anything you can tell me about her will help.”

Juniper took a deep breath.

“She was murdered, and...your pal Bucky? He's the utter, fucking shit-cock who did it.”

There was the crunch of wood as a chunk of the counter shattered under the Captain's grip. Juniper didn't even turn to look at Luke—probably furious at the damage. Her eyes were locked onto Steve's face. He looked shattered. For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at the bar. He took a breath and held it.

Cap's head connected with the broken counter. “Son of a Bitch!”

Juniper snatched up the blonde's water glass and saluted the back of his head, taking a deep pull. The glass clattered as she set it down, loud in the oddly silent bar.

Matt sighed, reaching over to clap the wilted man on a beefy shoulder. “Come on.”

A pale eye peered up at Matt's placid face. “Where you taking me?”

“Back to mine. We need to talk—privately—and I have plenty of booze at mine.”

Juniper sighed, sliding from her stool. She stole a quick glance at the dead-eyed Soldier Boy. Honestly? She didn't think even Matt's stash was going to cut it this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry about the semi-cliffy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juniper and Jessica meet face-to-face. Guacamole the Cat makes a cameo appearance. Vaguely plot-ish shit starts to peek around the corners of this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit loooongish. Like, on my word doc, it went from page 33 to 53, sooooo give yourself some time to read it. I promise it's well worth it. At least, I think so. :)

Juniper knocked back a double-shot as she watched Cap stalk around Matt's living room. She swallowed heavily, enjoying the burn of the booze as it slid down her throat. Matt kicked his feet up into her lap, his head resting on the arm of couch. His drink was settled on his chest, his hands wrapped loosely around the base.

“Sit down before you fall down, Wonder Bread,” Matt's voice was whiskey soaked, tinged with just enough amusement that the blonde bristled.

“Excuse me for not being comfortable with—this,” he waved his hands wildly in the air, but let himself slump into a seat across from the couch.

Juniper quirked an eyebrow. “What's to be comfortable with? You want to play babysitter, but I don't want to move to Brooklyn.”

“I told you, you'd have privacy...I could take the couch. It would be fine—”

Juniper took another shot. “Not the point~”

Matt's head lolled, his only tell that he was enjoying the absent-minded massage she was giving to his feet. “I'm with Juniper on this one. There's really no point in moving.”

“No point? Bucky, he—!” He took a bracing breath, “if there's a chance that he's coming after her, now...”

She poked a finger in his direction, her grin triumphant. “BUT, if that were the case, I'd be tucked away in a morgue somewhere, not sitting here, drinking all of Matty's booze and having this argument with you.”

“I wouldn't exactly call this an argument.”

“Well, I wouldn't exactly call it a Care-Bear Moment, either.”

Steve tugged at his hair, jaw tight with frustration. “HYDRA survived for years without anyone the wiser. I want to believe that Bucky hasn't fallen back into enemy hands, but if he has...you can't know that they haven't sent him after you.”

“No...but I can.”

“How could you possibly know for sure?”

Juniper sighed. “It's real simple, Captastic. We both know what your old pal is capable of. I've seen it...the news footage from D.C. certainly implies you have, too. Yet...he let me walk away. For all he knows, he could have kissed his only chance at getting to me good-bye. That doesn't exactly sound like something HYDRA would let him get away with, if they'd sent him.”

Cap nodded reluctantly. “It isn't.”

“Not to mention? Doesn't really fit his M.O..”

Steve sighed. “Even before—”

“—during the war?”

“...yes. Even then, if he had a clear shot, he'd take it.”

Juniper saluted the blonde mockingly. “...and that's why I'm not fucking moving.”

Steve's head fell back against the back of his chair. “So, what...I just do nothing, hope for the best?”

She tipped her glass at him. “Pretty much. Whether you do that from Matt's couch or your own is your business.”

Cap grit his teeth, pressing his balled fists to his eyes tightly.

Matt smiled dryly. “It's called a compromise, Captain. You want to play bodyguard? Fine. You do it on our terms, or not at all.”

Steve let his hands drop enough to toss an unhappy scowl at Matt. Juniper met his frustrated gaze with an unimpressed one. She poured another shot, humming under her breath as she downed it. “Seriously, you don't like it? Too bad. The goddamn door is right there. Don't let it slap you on the ass on the way out.”

Steve slumped—well, as much as a man his size could slump. “Fine. I guess we do it your way.”

Juniper smirked. “Not that that was ever in question...but sure.”

The silence stretched for a long moment. Her hand stroked along the arch of Matt's foot, biting back a snort as he twitched. Hah. She'd forgotten he was ticklish there. Her fingers traced the curve of an ankle, slipping just under the his pants to brush his calf. He sighed, a low rumble like a purr in his chest. Juniper didn't bother to bite back her laughter this time.

“Just so there's no confusion, Soldier Boy?” Tired blue eyes lifted to meet hers. “Matt and I aren't exactly celibate.”

“You say that like I'm supposed to be shocked.” His expression was surprisingly dry, considering he was quite literally the face of 1940s morality.

Juniper shrugged. “You were the USO's Poster Boy during World War II; I figured your sensibilities would be a bit more delicate.”

“You've obviously never been to a USO show.”

“Obviously not.”

Steve's eyes were distant, a half-grimace, half-smile lighting his face. “They were sweaty...and loud. Lots of girls, lots of liquor, and not a lot of clothing...and then there was what happened backstage.” 

She lifted a brow. “Sounds dirty.”

“Came with the territory; we were living with the soldiers in the trenches.”

Matt snorted. “I'm pretty sure that's not what she meant, Soldier Boy.”

Steve gave him a dry look. “I'm old, son, but not that old. I know what she meant.”

Matt lifted his glass in salute. “Fair enough.”

Stumbling to her feet, Juniper took another swallow of whiskey. “As illuminating as this conversation has been, I'm fucking hungry. Matt? Cap?”

Matt shrugged. Cap rubbed his stomach. “I could eat.”

“You could eat? What? A salad? A rack of ribs? An entire cow?”

Steve shot her a look. She leveled one back at him, unimpressed. “The way I hear it, you could bench press a helicopter without breaking a sweat. I assume your dietary needs are a little different than mine.”

Wonder Bread snorted. “A large steak—medium—and a salad would be great, if you're offering. Thanks.”

Juniper snapped into a sharp salute, clicking her heels. “Sir! Yes, sir!”

She barely bit back the fit of laughter bubbling up her throat at the flat look the Captain shot her. She tossed him a smirk. Juniper sidled closer to Matt, lifting a foot to prod him in the ribs with her toes.

“Hey. Lazy ass.”

He shoved at her toes. “Whaaat.”

“You want to eat, or not?”

“Yes.”

She raised a brow, waiting, as Matt seemed to settle back into his boozy doze. Juniper scoffed. “I'm sorry, but my telepathy must be on the fritz. What was that?”

Matt grunted. “Steak. Please.”

“Rare?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. “Salad, no salad? Work with me here, Matt.”

“No rabbit food.”

Juniper rolled her eyes. “I happen to know you like 'rabbit food,' but whatever. Your loss, caveman.”

His lips quirked up into a grin and he made grunting noises in her direction. She darted a look at Cap, who was staring at Matt with a raised brow. Juniper smirked.

“Save that for the bedroom, stud. We're in polite company.”

Matt flipped her off and she chortled as she shuffled from the room.

“Don't make promises you can't keep~”

“Who says I can't keep them?”

Juniper rolled her eyes. “Your whiskey-dick, obviously.”

Matt took a slow sip of his drink, his lips twitching at the sound of sputtering coming from Leave It To Beaver. She kept her eyes on Matt; she knew the minute she saw the soldier's face she'd lose it.

“It talks to you, does it?”

She leered. “Frequently, and with great enthusiasm.”

Matt snorted. “Fine. Grab me a water bottle and some aspirin?”

Juniper nodded, dashing into the bathroom to grab the tiny bottle of pills, stopping by the kitchen to grab the water from the fridge. She stood in the threshold to the living room and called out to her lounging lover. “Yo. Studly! Head's up!”

One after the other, she tossed the pills and water bottle in Matt's direction. His head didn't even move from where it was tucked into his chest. His hand whipped into the air, snatching the pills and tucking them next to him on the couch, then the water bottle.

Glass clattered against the low coffee table, and Juniper darted a glance over to the wide-eyed Captain. Oh, shit.

“...I thought you were blind?”

S I L E N C E

...and it stretched as Juniper darted her gaze between Matt and Beef McStrong-Body. Slowly, Matt pushed himself up in his seat. “I am.”

“Well then, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Murdock, but you have the most impressive reflexes I've ever seen on a blind man.”

“Met many blind men, have you?”

“Not really, but I also haven't met many men who could do what you just did, even with working eyes.”

Matt smiled blandly. “Fair enough.”

Cap fidgeted, his eyes darting around Matt's face. Juniper could almost hear the gears turning in his head. “So...how does that work, then? Are you...enhanced?”

Matt laughed. “Not in the way you mean, no.”

“Then how—I mean, if I can ask?”

Taking a moment to toss back a few aspirin and take a deep gulp of water, Matt ruffled his hair. He sighed. “Are you familiar with the concept of echolocation, Captain?”

Blondelicious blinked. “You mean like bats?”

Matt nodded. “Yes. Think of it like that, but...more. Everything around you, from temperature fluctuations, to changes in air density, to vibrations caused by movement...and yes, even sound...leaves an imprint. Combine that with what I can hear and smell, and it comes together...like the pieces of a puzzle without all the pieces, or an impressionist painting.”

Steve stared for a long moment, looking almost hesitant. “So, you're saying that you're some sort of...bat man?”

Juniper smirked as she heard Matt grumble. He brushed a hand across his face, smiling wryly in Cap's general direction. “That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose it works.”

She clapped her hands together once, snorting when Cap jumped. Matt took another gulp of his water. She bounced on the balls of her feet. “I'll just go make dinner, shall I?”

Matt slumped back into the couch with a groan

.. .. ..

Juniper glared at her tablet, almost daring it to be That Guy as the screen flickered dully. She eyed the little battery in the upper right corner—14%. Shit. She'd need to plug it in soon, but not before she finished reading this one goddamn email. 

She blinked her raw, tired eyes and tried to focus on the words swimming across the screen. It didn't work. The words continued to slip in and out of focus, mocking her. Well, not really mocking her, but still...kiiiiinda mocking her. 

She sighed. Obviously, she wasn't nearly awake enough for this shit, because she wasn't making any fucking sense, even in her own goddamn head.

Time for more coffee, I think.

A yawn split her face as she shuffled into the kitchen. She touched the coffee pot with back of her fingers—still hot—grunting in satisfaction. Good enough. Juniper poured the dregs into her half-full cup, wincing as the concentrated sludge mixed with the lukewarm funk left to cool for...however long it had been since she'd poured her second cup. She knocked it back, grimacing as a film of coffee and cooling dairy coated her tongue. Shit, that was foul. Still...caffeine was caffeine, and she'd need all the goddamn caffeine if she was going to continue to wade through, well, everything.

Her tablet gave a sad, electronic warble and blinkered weakly, before going blank. “Oh, you absolute shit-cock!”

Juniper stomped back to her tablet, glaring down at the thing like it was her goddamn child, or something. It may as well have been a child, for all that it misbehaved. “You couldn't let me get through one goddamn email? Really?”

The tablet didn't say anything—obviously, as it was a tablet—but just sat there, looking pitiful. She poked at the blank screen angrily, jamming her nail against the glass. “You and I will be having some goddamn words once I charge you. Hear me? WORDS.”

Snorting in disgust, she stomped back to the kitchen, snatching up the empty coffee pot and all but dropping it into the sink. She scrubbed at it angrily, the sponge harsh as she scraped away at the brown film clinging to the thick Pyrex. “Little fucker, crapping out on me when I just charged you last night. What the hell do I even have you for if you can't do your goddamn job.”

Juniper tossed a betrayed look over her shoulder, tsked, and went back to angrily washing out the coffee pot.

The sound of the door jolted her out of her grumbling, and she just about tossed the coffee pot across the kitchen. Soap-slicked hands fumbled with the pot, and she swore, loudly and emphatically, as she juggled with the slippery little shit.

“FUCKING—hey, Steve,” her eyes gleamed in triumph as her hands clamped down on the pot, setting it gently into the sink. “Any luck?”

“Not yet.” Steve lingered in the doorway, his dismay hovering like a goddamn rain cloud over his head. 

“It's early days yet, Eeyore.”

Her hands ran absently along smooth glass, thumbing away stray suds and grinds. The sound of water running over glass and trickling down the drain was almost hypnotic, and shit if it wasn't putting her to sleep. 

“Eeyore—?”

“It's—”

“No, never mind. I don't want to know.”

Juniper tossed him a scandalized look. How could he not know who Eeyore was? What had those Avengers been teaching him...well, not been teaching him?

Steve ignored her look. “It's been two weeks.”

“Yeah, and Your Gal Friday has been giving the government the slip for decades. Give it time.”

Steve grunted, slumping against the wall. She could feel his eyes boring into her back as she filled the coffee machine with fresh water, measuring out enough for two-four-eight cups with slow, steady scoops. Juniper pulled another coffee cup from the pantry, adding a dash of cream and two spoons of sugar before sliding it across the counter. Steve shuffled over to join her, grasping his cup and staring longingly at the coffee pot.

The two stood in silence, listening to the hiss of steam and bubbling of the coffee. Juniper yawned, again, shaking her head. After a moment, she heard Cap's yawn echo hers. 

Cap blinked blearily, scratching at the fine layer of stubble on his chin. “Matt here?”

Juniper shook her head. “He left for the office right after you stepped out.”

“Hn. What time will he be back?”

“Late, I think. He and Foggy are meeting with new clients today, then preparing for a few court dates.”

Steve nodded vaguely, but she doubted he'd registered a goddamn word. Juniper snorted, grabbing the coffee pot from the machine and topping off first her, then his cups. The glass clattered as she slotted it clumsily back into place.

“Any plans for the day?”

“Nothing in particular. Why?”

“I need to grab my keys from Luke.”

“You plan on stopping by your apartment?”

“Yeah. I ran out of clean t-shirts about a week ago, and have been slowly pilfering Matt's. I'm not sure he's noticed yet, but he will soon.”

Steve snorted. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Juniper sipped her coffee, her eyes slipping closed in bliss. “It's fine if you'd rather not.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Green eyes cracked open, peering up at Cap over the rim of her cup. She bit back a snort. Fuck if Steve wasn't just as stubborn as Luke...or Matt, for that matter. What is it with the men in my life all being stubborn shits?

“Honestly, I don't care either way,” she lifted a hand to interrupt Steve, “but if you want to come along, I won't stop you. I have a few calls to make, so I won't be the best company.”

“Like you could be worse company than Stark.”

Juniper shrugged. “I wouldn't know.”

Steve's eyes darted over to the mess of coffee mugs scattered around a veritable castle of files. His eyes seemed to linger on her dead tablet, which was perched precariously at the top of the tallest file turret. “How're things going on your end?”

“Aside from my tablet crapping out on me?” Juniper took a slow sip of coffee. “Hard to say.”

“'Hard to say'? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that I need to make some goddamn phone calls and finish checking my email. Until then, it's hard to say if what I think I know is actually true, or if I'm misreading things.”

Steve grunted, rubbing absently at his forehead. Long fingers tangled in blonde locks for a moment before he let his arm drop limply to his side. Juniper eyed him over the rim of her mug, taking in the days old stubble, the dark circles under his eyes, the paler-than-usual pallor. Honestly, he looked as miserable and exhausted as she felt. Blue eyes cracked open, meeting her placid green. “Sorry. I know you're doing the best you can. I just...”

“...you just want to find Bucky.”

“Yeah. Preferably before what's left of HYDRA does.”

“That's understandable, which is why I haven't kicked your ass yet.”

Steve smiled at her wryly. “You could try, but I wouldn't recommend it.”

“Why? You don't think I could take you?”

“Not without breaking something, no.”

“I'm a big girl; I'd survive.”

“I'm not sure I would, if it got back to Luke that I let you try.”

“You're scared of Luke? You? Seriously?”

“Not scared, no, but I have good instincts.”

“...and what do those instincts tell you?”

“That anyone who can look a Super Soldier in the eye without fear probably has a reason for it.”

Juniper shrugged, not confirming or denying anything. “So, do you want to tag along, or what?”

“To where, your place?”

“No, to the sock hop. I hear they have a swell band lined up.” Steve shot her a look, “yes, to mine, Ice Brain.”

“'Ice Brain'?”

“Would you prefer I call you Capsicle?”

Steve winced. Juniper took a slow, victorious sip of coffee. “I'll take that as a no.”

Cap knocked back the rest of his coffee with a grimace. “Can we just go?”

Juniper snorted. “Yeah, we can go.” 

The walk to Luke's was pleasant, if quiet. Juniper fiddled with her phone, glancing down at it every few minutes. As much as she didn't mind making the trek out, she'd rather not be wasting her time.

Yo. I need my mail and my keys. You at the bar?-J

Finally, two blocks from Luke's, her phone buzzed.

Mail and keys are in the kitchen-L

She rolled her eyes, ignoring Steve as he grasped her arm, all but steering her around the crowds as she typed.

Where are you, though? I need your key to get in-J

Juniper tapped the phone against her palm, gripping it tight as the vibrations nearly sent it crashing to the sidewalk.

Jessica will let you in-L

She smirked.

She will, will she?-J

The silence stretched. And stretched. She stared at the phone, daring Luke to blow her off. Finally, the message came through.

Just...fucking behave yourself, alright?-L

Juniper glared down at her phone. 

Who do you take me for?-J

Another stretch of silence. This one, shorter than the last.

Your mother's child-L

She beamed, oddly proud. Yeah, so her mom had been a hard ass. It was one of the many things she'd loved about her. Luke wasn't fooling her, though, with his griping. She knew he'd loved that about her, too.

Fair enough-J

She tucked away her phone, tugging her arm from Steve's grip as she changed course, heading left instead of right at the cross-street leading the bar. Steve hesitated for a moment, then moved to catch up. “We're not going to Luke's?”

“We are.”

“But isn't his bar—?”

Juniper's glance slid to Cap for a moment, then flickered back to the street stretching out in front of them. “He doesn't live at the bar, Cap.”

“I didn't think he did.”

“Then why ask?”

“Because it's the goddamn weekend, and—”

“Language, grandpa.”

“Screw my fucking language.”

“Oof. You kiss your shield with that mouth?”

Steve let out a strangled scream, and Juniper did her best to bite back her smile. Sometimes, Red White and Blueballs made it too goddamn easy.

“Juniper. Where are we going?”

She rolled her eyes. Spoil-sport. “We're going to Luke's apartment where his mysterious girlfriend will supposedly meet us so I can grab my shit. Happy?”

Cap stared down his nose at her, reminding her so much of Luke that she could have sworn he was channeling him, or some such shit. “Are you always this much of a pain in the ass?”

“You've lived with Matt and I how long, and you still need to ask?”

Steve sighed, looking actually pained, but bit back whatever was on the tip of his tongue and trudged along behind her. The rising sun was painting the mostly-empty streets pink and gold and bronze. Street lights cast sickly yellow light across piss-stained pavement, and graffitied walls, and half-rusted scaffolding. One by one, they were blinking out, like dying fireflies.

The metal and canvas rattled like old bones, hot air billowing up from a vent as a subway train passed by, far below their feet. Juniper weaved though the crowds, dodging elbows and briefcases and purses, her hand lifted to block out the glare of early sunlight on tinted glass windows. 

It wasn't beautiful, not in the way a lot of New York was beautiful, but she loved it, nonetheless.

“How much farther?”

Juniper frowned. “Half a block.”

 

Cap grunted, a thick arm brushing her side as he lifted them both above his head and stretched. His teeth glinted in the light, sharp and white, as he let out another massive yawn. Juniper blinked against her own yawn, shaking her head furiously as it rattled her bones. Jesus.

...and finally. There it was, tucked in next to a little liquor store. The neon COORS LIGHT sign was blinking through the slatted metal security door, the pink light glaring off the glass windows of Luke's building. 

Finger pressed hard to the buzzer, Juniper leaned against the wall as she waited for Jessica to answer. After a moment, the same hard voice she'd heard echo down Luke's phone crackled at her from the intercom. “The hell do you want?”

“Jessica?”

“Who's asking?”

Juniper could see Cap rolling his eyes out of the corner of hers, but ignored him. “Juniper. Luke said you knew I was coming?”

The woman grunted over the intercom, the buzz of the door unlocking almost drowning her out. She slipped inside, barely catching the door before it could slam shut in Cap's face. She darted up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Cap's steps were slow, measured, but he still kept pace with her easily enough. The jerk.

Luke's door loomed—a sweet, fucking haven—and she bounded over, catching herself on the frame as she took a moment to catch her breath. Cap sidled up behind her, knocking as she rested her head against the door.

“Jessica? Could you open up, please?”

“Just—gimme a minute.”

Her eyes slid shut as she waited, her body slumped against the door. The click of the lock startled her, and only Cap's hand, clamped vice tight on her shoulder, kept her from toppling head over ass into the apartment.

Jessica stood just inside the doorway, staring at her as if not sure whether to shoot her or laugh at her. Juniper's eyes took in her dark hair and pale-as-shit face, her small build. Something about her was familiar, like seeing a face in the crowd you've seen one or two other places before. It took a moment, but it came to her. This was the champion booze drinker she'd found so impressive the night she and Matt literally ran into Cap.

So, she could hold her liquor. Good to know.

“Hey. So, can I—?” She gestured to vaguely towards the apartment. Jessica stepped back, holding the door as she and Cap stepped inside.

Juniper left Steve to stand there and look pretty for a moment as she headed for the kitchen, zeroing in on her pile of mail and house keys. A soft chirrup and the jangling of a tiny bell distracted her for a moment. Green eyes darted around the kitchen, zeroing in on the squash-faced fluffy little menace she called her cat. Well, Luke's cat now, she supposed.

“GUACAMOLE!”

The cat let out an ear-shattering warble, whiskers quivering, and tottered over to her side. His tail twitched happily as she pet her fluffy little fur-baby, taking him into her arms. Guac's head nuzzled enthusiastically at her chin, purrs rumbling loudly in his chest. She stared at her keys and her mail, and sighed.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come here a sec?”

Cap's footsteps shuffled into the kitchen, squeaking across the tile. The blonde stared at the giant ball of fluff in her arms, and her cat stared back. Juniper rolled her eyes at both of them, all but dropping Guacamole into his arms. He sputtered, but caught the cat, blue eyes wide with fear. She shook her head. Dumb move, that. Guacamole would never respect him, now.

Juniper turned to snatch up her keys, stuffing them into her pocket, before picking up the stack of envelopes and rifling through them as she wandered back into the hall. She heard Steve shuffle awkwardly behind her.

Bill. Bill. Invoice from last job. Bill. Jesus, another bill. Another invoice. A card from Wade.

She looked at the bright pink envelope dubiously, eyeing the mass of unicorn and grenade stickers, and scoffing at the Hello, Kitty stamp. Huh. She'd have to look at this later, hopefully far away from small children and all things flammable. Juniper looked up at the sound of Guacamole's little bell. Her little divo, obviously fed up with Cap's fumbling, smacked the blonde in the face with his tail, giving him the ass as he jumped out of his arms and dashed into the kitchen.

He blinked, staring after the cat. Juniper raised a brow. “Problem, Cap?”

“...did I do something wrong?”

“You showed fear.”

“Showed...fear?”

“Yeah. He'll never respect you now.”

“Wait...what?”

She sighed. “Cats...they're like that macho, posturing dad you meet when you go to pick up your date for the first time. As long as you don't blink first, you're cool. You show fear? You're their bitch forever.”

“That...makes no sense.”

“...you're not a cat person, are you.”

“Apparently not.”

Jessica snorted, shifting impatiently. Juniper blinked up at her, staring between her and the bewildered Steve. “Introductions, right. Capalicious, this is Jessica Jones. Jessica Jones, this is Stevie-Boy.”

Steve smiled blandly. “Just Steve is fine.”

Jessica snorted. “Jessica. So, what's the Avengers' resident flag waver doing playing errand boy?”

Juniper snorted. “More like bodyguard. His ole buddy's in town, and we're trying to track him down, but...no luck so far.”

“I'm a P.I., you know.”

“And I'm an Information Broker. What's your point?”

The other brunette shot her a dry look. “That my job comes with an actual license, and legal contacts. I could look into it, if you want.”

She flashed the P.I. a tight smile. She should have come alone. “That's up to Cap. I still have a few more of my people I'm calling in.”

Jessica shot her a look. “These people have names?”

“Yes.”

Cap nudged her with his elbow, and she rolled her eyes. “Weasel...and Deadpool.”

“Jesus! You know that ass-hole?”

“Which one? They're both kind of ass-holes.”

“The knife-wielding psycho.”

“I think he prefers 'stab-happy' to 'knife-wielding'.”

Cap shot her a startled look, and she bit back a curse. Juniper flashed him her best reassuring smile that wasn't reassuring him, at all. “You have your contacts, I have mine. Yeah, so, Deadpool is a little...unconventional, but he's goddamn efficient, if motivated.”

“...and you think you can motivate that guy?”

She shot a look at Jessica, brow furrowed as she mouthed 'not helping.' The P.I. lifted a brow, Don't Give A Fuck radiating from every inch. Cap, of course, watched them both carefully, his brow furrowed. Christ.

“Cap, seriously. I know Deadpool. I know I can get him on this. Yeah, so, you might have to put up with his weird ass for a bit, but he'll get the job done.”

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving hers as he considered it. “Alright. I'll give him a week to see how it goes, but if he looks like he's not doing his job, or not finding anything,” he tossed a questioning glance at Jessica. She smiled tightly.

“I'm at Alias Investigations. I'll be there, if you change your mind.”

Fuck. She needed to talk to Luke. This was getting more and more messed up by the minute.

Juniper flashed another smile. “So! We done here, then?”

Steve nodded, brow still furrowed. He hesitated, turning on his heel and sticking out his hand to shake Jessica's. “Nice to meet you, ma'am.”

Jessica snorted. “You too, Cap. See ya around.”

Juniper flashed the other woman a tight smile, all-but running for the door. Cap scurried out behind her, feet pounding as she swiftly descended the steps, and was out the door. Her fingers tightened around her pile of mail, eyes lingering on the card Wade had sent. She needed to get him here, pronto, before Luke's...whatever...could go digging into things that were better off left alone.

“What was that about?”

She waved him off, pressing the rest of the mail into his hand as she opened the card. The card was shaped like a rearing unicorn, covered in glitter, with a hand drawn penis standing erect between the unicorn's hind legs. Steve, peering over her shoulder, choked.

“What the he—!”

Juniper snorted, ignoring the flustered Cap as she opened the card.

“Hey, Poison-Berry!

Long time, no ogle. My big gun misses you. Meet up soon? I'll bring Bea and Arthur!”

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her contacts til she found Wade's. 

I'm calling in that favor, Deadalicious. I'll even add in some Brittney Time, if you can be here in the next two days-J

Juniper tucked the card back into the envelope, snorting as Cap took it gingerly from her to add to her pile of mail. Seriously, he was acting like it was going to bite him.  
As if that was the worst thing something from Deadpool could do. Her phone buzzed.

You do love me! I'll bring Bea and Arthur and we'll make it a party!-The Deadliest Deadpoolian

She snorted, her eyes flitting to take in Cap's wary stare. He gave her a tight smile, glancing down at her phone. “So, your...friend is coming, then?”

“Yeah. Should be here in a day or two.”

“Huh. What does he do, exactly?”

Juniper licked her lips, trying not to smile. “A lot that he shouldn't, to be honest.”

Cap shot her a look.

“He's called 'the Merc with a Mouth' for a reason. It gets him in trouble.”

“He's a killer?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you want to be all precious about it, yes.”

“I'm not sure how else I'm supposed to look at it.”

“You could start by withholding judgment til you meet him. I mean, Jesus. Considering I'm calling him in to track down your heterosexual life partner—who is also a killer, by the way—you could be a little less of a dick about it, you know?”

Steve's jaw clenched, his knuckles going white as he clenched at her stack of mail. “Bucky was brainwashed. You friend wasn't. There's a difference.”

“Yes, but before that? The both of you did a lot of horrible shit for the SSR willingly. It's all relative, Cap.”

“How do you know about that?”

Juniper's eyes flashed. “My mother.”

“But...how would she know—?”

She waved him off. “That doesn't matter. What does matter is that you are being a self-righteous twat when I'm only doing this to lend a hand. You don't like it, you can turn around and go talk to Jessica...and find another couch to sleep on, while you're at it.”

Steve shifted the mail in his arms, swiping a hand angrily through his hair. “You think Matt's going to be OK with this? With you bringing a 'mouthy merc' into his home?”

“One? Matt trusts me. Two? Til you know shit about shit, you don't get to make assumptions about what Matt would feel about anything.”

Cap's jaw clenched, blue eyes dark and angry. Juniper sighed. “I'm not asking you to like it.”

“Good, because I don't.”

She shot him a warning look. “I wasn't done. You don't have to like it, but if you want to stick around, you will have to suck it up and deal. Think you can manage that?”

Juniper tried not to wince at the sound of paper crumpling and tearing under Cap's grip. Green eyes met blue, almost daring him. Daring him to speak up and say why this really bothered him. Daring him to call her incompetent to her face. Daring him to get out of his own goddamn head and trust her, already. Steve wilted under her stare, his shoulders dropping.

“I said I'd give him a week to show me he could do this; I won't go back on my word.”

“Good. Now, can we stop with this miserable, bullshit tension and get on with the day?”

Steve laughed. “Lead the way.”

.. .. ..

Juniper buried her face further into Matt's neck, winding an arm loosely around his stomach. Her arm jostled as Matt's body shook with laughter. “Seriously, Matt. It's not that funny.”

“You made Steve play house maid while you took a nap on the couch. I find that very funny.”

“He offered!”

Matt jostled her, lifting a brow in her direction. “Captain America offered to put away your dishes, and dust, and wash and fold your laundry while you stretched out on the couch?”

“Not exactly—but!” Juniper poked Matt as he crowed in victory, “he still did it all on his own. All I told him to do was 'make himself useful' while I packed up a few shirts and things. The cleaning and laundry? That was all him. Probably felt guilty for being a twat about Wade coming.”

Matt hummed low in his throat. “About that?”

“Yeah?”

“Where exactly will he be sleeping? I don't have unlimited floor space.”

She shrugged. “I could always keep him tucked away at mine, or stuff him in a closet or something.”

Matt snorted. “You really want him staying at your place by himself.”

“Not really, but I was planning on heading back there soon, anyway.”

“Hn.”

“Don't give me that. Our arrangement was for two, maybe three weeks. It's been five. FIVE, Matt.”

He shrugged. Juniper snorted. “Hey. You'd get shitty too, if you were paying rent for an apartment you weren't living in.”

“So, what...you're going to move back in once he gets here?”

“That's the plan. Cap could stay at mine, or with you, whatever. I know you like your privacy to do your Darkwing Duck thing, so it's your call.”

“I'm not fucking Darkwing Duck, Juniper.”

“Well, you're hardly 'The Devil of Hell's Kitchen' either, Matthew.”

The sheets rustled as Matt burrowed his way beneath them, his stubbly chin and warm lips teasing trails down Juniper's stomach. She snorted, fighting the urge to squirm as he kissed his way across her ticklish rib cage. “If this is your way of punishing me, then by all means...punish away.”

Matt shook his head, burrowing further into her side, his words muffled against her warm skin. “No, I know you better than that.”

“...oh?”

“If I wanted to punish you, I'd withhold sex, not offer it.”

She smirked, staring down at the lump of sheets that was the top of Matt's head. “You're right. You do know me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Her hand petted the mound of sheets. “You're not worried about Steve hearing us?”

“He's off doing his evening skulking. We have time.”

“When did he leave?”

“6ish?”

Juniper peered at the clock. 7:45. “We have maybe twenty minutes, unless he gets a lead. That's not a whole lot of time.”

“So, I'll make every minute count.”

“And if he's early?”

“Sock is on the door. He'll figure it out.”

“Then don't let me stop you.”

Matt's lips curled against her skin for a minute, and he continued his journey downward. Juniper hummed as he settled between her thighs, her entire body flushing as he pressed slow, lingering kisses along the inside of her thighs. Her hands scrambled to push the sheets down her body and past his shoulders. She wanted to see him.

Her small hands brushed through the tangle of dark hair, pushing it back from Matt's forehead to see his face. His eyes were closed, his cheeks flushed, as he moved his full lips against her. Juniper arched her back, her eyes lidded, and tightened her grip in his hair.

Yes. This was definitely something Matt was good at. Not surprising—OK, a little surprising that first time—considering how quick his tongue was outside of the bedroom, but...still fucking appreciated, all the same. Juniper shushed her stupid brain...honestly, why reminisce about then when his tongue was doing That Thing now? Dumb, right? Right. Which is why her brain needed to shut the fuck up and let her get on with getting off.

She relaxed back into the mattress, focusing on the feel of the strong fingers gripping her thighs, the full mouth teasing her open, the tongue pushing deep.

“Sonuvashit, Matt. Ahgod.”

He chuckled against her, and she let out a warble as her nerves sang the Hallelujah chorus. She was tempted to flip him onto his back and sit on his face...probably would have, had they had more than...however long they had before Cap came trudging back. She honestly couldn't remember how long she'd said and didn't give a boat load of shits, anyway. 

Juniper cried out as Matt pushed her thighs back towards her ribs, moving his face against her enthusiastically. It was like a move straight out of a raunchy porno, made all the more impressive by the fact that Matt had never fucking seen one.

...obviously, she wasn't the only one feeling the strain of living with another person. 

She groaned, arching her hips into his face. Godsfuckingdamnit. She was already close, and not just because he knew what the hell he was doing. Apparently, having the freedom to be as loud as the hell she wanted was a turn on. Who knew?

Juniper dug her nails into Matt's shoulders, clutching him closer, as she rode his tongue. She had every intention of being loud...obnoxiously so. She'd earned it. Hell, if Matt wanted to bring down the walls with his cries, he could. He'd earned it, too. Either way, she wasn't going to hold back, that's for damn sure.

She twitched as his tongue prodded her clit. Oooh. Less thinking, more cuming. 

Toes curling, thighs clenching, Juniper felt her orgasm ripple down her spine.

Sweet Mystery of Life, at long last I found you~

That was that shit from Young Frankenstein, right? Weird thing to pop into her head at a time like this, but...appropriate, because she was feeling it. 

Her brain fizzled and popped, like a static-filled TV. Channel Not Available. Please check with your Cable Provider. 

She struggled to brain even as her orgasm died down. No dice. Juniper let her legs flop to the mattress, staring at them absently as the muscles in her thighs trembled and twitched. Matt, smiling like the Cheshire Cat that got the goddamn cream, crawled up her body, holding himself up by one hand, working himself feverishly with the other. She blinked up at him.

“Hello, lovely.”

He let out a breathless laugh. “Hello, yourself. You back with me?”

“Hmm...think so? I dunno. I think I came so hard I busted my brain.”

Matt let out a low laugh, even as he worked toward his own finish. His jaw clenched right before the first pulse hit her stomach. A moan rumbled in his chest...interrupted by the creak of door hinges.

Cap, face twisted in confusion, stared down at the sock in his hand as he stepped into the room. “Matt, I found this hanging off your door handle..?”

Matt, too far gone to stop his orgasm now, swore. “GODFUCKINGDAMNIT, CAP.”

Blue eyes jerked up, alarmed, locking with hers over Matt's shoulder. She blinked placidly. Juniper had never actually seen a genuine deer-in-the-headlights expression, and never on someone as physically intimidating as Cap. He blinked, his gaze darting to land on Matt, which meant he witnessed the full body shudder he gave as his orgasm died down.

Steve went red. A very deep red...so red, Juniper half-feared the Super-Soldier was going to pass out.

The sock fell from limp fingers. “Uh...I'll just...” he gestured weakly over his shoulder. 

Juniper smiled blankly, her head still a jumble of static. 404 Error: Brain Not Found, and all that shit. “You do that. There's pizza in the fridge, if you want it. Help yourself.”

“...yeah. OK.” His gaze darted to land on Matt. Juniper tilted her head on her pillow, watching the tips of his ears flush. “Uh...sorry.”

The door slammed as The American Wet-Dream all but scuttled from their bedroom. Matt collapsed on top of her with a groan. “...I guess nobody ever explained the sock on the door handle thing to him.”

“Guess not.”

Matt whined. “You're going to make me do it, aren't you?”

“Bet your ass.”

He flopped onto his back. “It's like having a goddamn toddler.”

“...you see what I mean about the privacy thing, though?”

“Fuck, yes.”


End file.
